


Welcome to Skyrim!

by nutextrordinaire



Series: The Journal of Hamish Scott Watson [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Dragons, Future Fic, Gen, Injury, Magic, OC, POV First Person, Parallel Universe, Past Fic, Recovery, Sickness, alternative universe, casefic, timey whimey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:19:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutextrordinaire/pseuds/nutextrordinaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>January 6th, 2040.  An incident happens in a lab, throwing the known lives of our favorite characters to the wind, but the real question is what, just, happened?  John's son is in a land called Skyrim, and nearly killed by his fellow man, and dragons?!  He was just performing a simple experiment!  The other big question is, how will an aging John and Sherlock handle this?  </p>
<p>Will they ever reunite?  Why does this huge black dragon want to kill Hamish? What the hell is a Dovahkiin, and this war that is going on?  Poor Hamish.  Poor John.  Poor Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Skyrim!

**Author's Note:**

> CC is greatly appreciated. This will be in first person POV form, flipping between Hamish's journal in Skyrim and John and Sherlock in current London.

Date: January 6th, 2040

Location: Sleeping Giant Inn – Riverwood.

  
My name is Hamish Scott Watson.  The following journals describe something that is not quite of this world or the next.  The story I am about to tell you are one of parallel universes, magic, dragons, and mythology that in one world existed, and the other it didn’t, or if it did it was long forgotten.  
  
Before I was a theoretical physicist; normal, happy, and searching for the great beyond.  Well, not exactly normal, my father was the best friend of a consulting detective and an old army doctor himself.   Good lord (or shall I say Talos now?), what those two think happened to me.  
  
To properly explain this situation though I should start at the beginning.  Sherlock was always reprimanding me for starting to talk with passion without starting at the beginning of the story, though I knew he would have figured out what I was talking about within seconds.  
  
As I mentioned before in my previous life, I was a theoretical physicist.  I had just completed my PhD from Cambridge in the study of parallel universes and their existences and was furthering the discussion and the nature of possibly passing through the vortex between universes, something that had never been done before.   
  
It is safe to say that during my most recent experiment there were multiple plausible answers to what had happened.  From what I remember there was a big bang (cliché I know), and then whiteness before walking up with my hands tied and sitting on a wagon cart with three other men who were far larger and hairier than I.  
  
In my confusion I thought that maybe this was just some bizarre dream that resulted in my concussed mind after a minor explosion in my lab, or worse I was in a coma.  That seemed most logical at least.  
  
As the dream proceeded to get stranger, I realized that this might not be the truth.  They spoke, as Norse Mythology was a reality, well what seemed like Norse Mythology as I remember it.  The one called Ralof filled me in on my traveling companions; one was a Jarl of Windhelm.  He was the leader of this rebellious faction in this strange world.  There was also a horse thief named Lokir, he was freaking out.  I managed a cold façade for the most part, still believing this was a dream at the moment when we pulled through the gates of a city called Helgen.  
  
It was then that I started to question the validity of this dream, it was definitely not the type I normally have, and even in the nightmares I occasionally had that involved some bizarre case that Sherlock and Father would allow me to help with.  They were talking about a headsman and this General Tulius.  I thought it wise to keep my mouth shut for the time being, quietly analyze my situation.  
  
The guards unloaded us with another cart of prisoners, and began to count us off.  My heart was sinking into my stomach now, the longer I was in this dream world, the more realistic it was beginning to look, and when Lokir decided to try and make a run for it only to be killed by an archer I could not help but let out a yelp of surprise.  When they called for me, they called me a nord; I assume that was their term for human?  They asked my name, I was honest and simply told them Hamish, and was about to explain how this was a misunderstanding.  How could they do this when I had not committed any wrongdoing?  
  
That Legate Rikke had no qualms though of sending me to the chopping block, and put me in line for that.  In that moment though, I had thought to myself, if you die in your dreams, wouldn’t you wake up?  That made that giant axe the executioner was holding in front of me seem far less frightening.  
  
When it came to my turn though, they pulled me forward and put me down on my knees.  At the time I was almost joyous, I would finally wake up from this hell.  No matter what the noises were coming from around that were spooking them.  When I was about to have my head chopped off though, the most insane thing happened.  A dragon appeared on the tower above.  The thing was massive; I’ve never seen an animal that big aside from maybe a giraffe.  When it roared everyone was blown back by the force, it hurt.  Things aren’t supposed to hurt like that in dreams, are they?  In sheer instinct I found myself on my feet, running from the fire and the dragon that was destroying the town and people with little hardship.  
  
I found myself following Ralof through the chaos, as he led me through the tower and the town.  By the time we reached the keep I was covered in burns, ash, and scared out of my wits.  This definitely was the most realistic dream I had EVER had; if it was a dream, which I was beginning to doubt.  
  
Ralof cut the rope around my wrists off and I managed to get myself some decent Stormcloak chain armor and a war axe.  Taken from one of the corpses inside, not that I cared at that moment about modesty.  I was fighting for my life, and there was a dragon threatening to pull the entire building down on our heads.  
  
In a moment of self-defense I was forced to kill what Ralof referred too as legionnaires, or imperials.  There was so much chaos, and to tell you the truth at this point I just wanted a warm bed to lay down in after this hell, and for Father to show up and take care of these burns and cuts.  I never ached so much in my life!  Sure, I had some minor training with guns, and hand-to-hand combat, but never to this degree.  

It took us a couple hours before we finally emerged from the cave back into the outside world.  If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have liked to look around it was really quite beautiful here.  It reminded me of a camping trip that Father and mother took me on once.  
  
I suppose I should be thankful for Ralof to showing me to the way to his hometown called Riverwood.  He introduced me to his sister Gerdur before leaving.  The woman was nice enough, in her mid-30s I would guess.  She and her husband Hod ran the lumber mill, and they showed me the blacksmith.  They really do fight with bows and swords like the olden times.  I guess I do to now, I mean look at me I look like a reject from one of those medieval fairs that go through London from time to time.  
  
They all have weird names too, I met Gerdur’s assistant, Faendal.  He was an elf!  Guess they exist in this world.   Then I was set up with a room in the Sleeping Giant Inn.  Delphine, the woman that runs the inn, was nice enough to help me with my injuries.  This was another startling discovery, there is magic in this world!  I would not have believed it if I didn’t watch the scratches and burns disappear as this golden mist was coming from her hands and covering me over.  
  
It was after all that, and the words of Gerdur to come and met her in the morning after I had a long deserved rest to discuss how to proceed about this and what is to be done with the dragon that just appeared.  
  
I could not quite sleep after all this had happened though, thankfully through rummaging in the room I found this leather bound book that was blank and a quill with ink.  So, I guess this will serve as my recollections of this world in this book.  That, or I shall wake up in the morning and be in the hospital surrounded by father and Uncle Sherlock.  
  
I hope that is the case, even though this world is very interesting, being nearly killed more times in my life in one day was definitely not pleasant.  Though I have the feeling that, I may wake up on this straw bed with a bear (?) fur covering in the morning with more questions than answers.  
  
 ~~God~~ Talos help me.

 


End file.
